


Take It to the Mat

by DoubleApple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, resolving some sexual tension after a reeeeeeeeally long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 11:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10189025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleApple/pseuds/DoubleApple
Summary: Prompt: It's Auror training and Harry and Draco still can't stop fighting. All the bloody time. It's getting so disruptive that their instructor tells them to go to the Duelling Room before the class starts and "get it out of their system". This probably wasn't quite what they had in mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [birdsofshore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsofshore/gifts), [capitu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitu/gifts), [lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/gifts).



> I've never participated in a fest before, but I read this prompt and couldn't resist! Thank you so much to the moderators of Anywhere but the Bed 2017.

"Wands. Now."  
  
The auror held out her right hand, palm up, and stared down the students in front of her. Her flashing black eyes were met with two disbelieving gazes — one green, one gray.  
  
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy. Give me your wands."  
  
Draco swallowed hard. "Auror Giddlewick, we—" he began, at the same moment that Harry said, "But we didn't—"  
  
"Not. One. More. Word," she ground out, and Draco and Harry both took an involuntary, identical step back from her. "Listen to me. The two of you are a danger to yourselves and others. Unless you'd like to be removed from this training program, you will address your interpersonal problems before you spend one more moment under my tutelage. But I'm not going to have you hexing each other halfway to Cornwall while you do it, so I'll say it once more, and once more only: Give me your wands."  
  
Draco wished, quite literally, that a hole would open up to swallow him whole, and mentally ran through half a dozen possible floor-splitting spells before handing his wand over to the furious auror in front of him. Harry did the same, and Draco got a quick look at their two wands laying side by side in Giddlewick's hand before she closed it so hard it seemed like their wands should have snapped in half.  
  
"Thank you. Now, you will go to the Duelling Room" — she motioned with her wand toward a door set back into the wall of their regular classroom, and it swung open quickly — "you will _speak_ with one another like civil adults, and you will not return until whatever problem you're having is fully and completely sorted. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Draco muttered, avoiding her eyes, Harry's eyes, the eyes of the rest of the trainees — avoiding every set of eyes in the room. It felt like the walls were judging him. This was beyond humiliating. He started toward the door and Harry followed behind him.  
  
"If I could take points from your bloody Hogwarts houses, I would," Giddlewick muttered as she turned back to the rest of the class.  
  
The door had barely closed behind them when Harry whirled furiously on Draco.  
  
"Malfoy, you complete WANKER," he said, throwing his hands in the air. "Look at what you've done. And now we're stuck together… here." He and Draco both glanced around the small Duelling Room, which was mostly empty and a bit dingy. The floor and most of the walls were completely covered with thin red mats, and a disused stand of magical fencing equipment lurked in the corner. The room looked like it should house some mad Muggle sport, Draco thought. Something involving sweaty grappling and rolling around on the ground.  
  
"Oh, so it's my fault alone, then?" he asked. "I suppose I'm the one who managed to get us banished here completely on my own? I must have hexed my _own_ eyebrows off, then, while you just stood there like an innocent lamb?"  
  
Harry positively smirked, which infuriated Draco even more.  
  
"Potter, you realize she's quite literally sent us into a _padded room_ together," he said, stalking up to Harry. He wanted to throttle him, to grab him and choke him, he wanted to feel his hands around Harry's neck, the hollow right at the base of his throat and the vulnerable jut of his Adam's apple. He wanted to rest his hand on the sweet spot at the back of Harry's neck, tangle his hands through all that infuriating hair... oh, bloody hell.  
  
"You looked ridiculous with no eyebrows," Harry said, "and you still smell a bit... singed."  
  
Somehow they were standing very close to each other, and Harry reached out a hand toward Draco's face. Instead of flinching away, though, he found himself leaning into Harry, who was tracing his newly regrown eyebrows with the pad of his thumb. His fingertips brushed Draco's cheek, and oh Merlin, Harry's lips were RIGHT there.  
  
"You look all right now, though," Harry said quietly. "Your eyebrows, I mean. And, er, the rest of you. Looks all right, that is."  
  
"All right," Draco echoed, guardedly, a bit mesmerized by Harry's mouth, which was suddenly so close to his, lovely and full.  
  
"Malfoy," Harry said very softly, his eyes seeming to study Draco's face. His hand had dropped down from Draco's face, only his fingers making contact with his collarbone and chest. Draco could feel each fingertip on his skin, resting there, waiting.  
  
"Yes," Draco heard himself say, not even knowing what he meant, just wanting to hear Potter say his name in that velvety voice again, thinking about those fingers on his chest, his collarbone... and now that mouth again, opening, getting ready to speak...  
  
"So, Malfoy, are you bent?" Potter asked.  
  
Draco jerked away, tossing his hands in the air. "Leave it to you, Potter — that was about as subtle as a freight train. So much for the moment."  
  
Harry took a step back too. "Hey, I didn't mean to ruin the moment, but leave it to you to insult me just for asking! It seemed like—"  
  
Draco interrupted him: "Fine, yes, I AM bent, thank you very much. I just don't choose to spread it all over the front page of the Daily Prophet like some idiots I know."  
  
"Oh, and you think I wanted to come out that way? Six months of witches and wizards, both writing every single—"  
  
But somewhere along the way, Draco's mind had figured out the message of this conversation — POTTER IS HITTING ON YOU, it was screaming, STOP ARGUING AND DO SOMETHING — and his body had caught up, and he found himself grabbing the front of Harry’s robes and tugging him close and snogging him with everything he was worth. Draco tangled his hands in that godforsaken hair and pressed Harry to him as hard as he could.  
  
And then Harry’s body caught up too, and he slammed his mouth against Draco's, all warmth and tongues and teeth and someone was moaning, maybe it was both of them, and oh Merlin this is what Draco had wanted for so long that he couldn't even remember a time before it.  
  
Harry yanked on the front of Draco's robes and Draco moved his hands out of Harry's hair to help with the buttons. Still kissing furiously, they roughly shucked off Draco's robes and started on Harry's. But something was stubborn and wouldn't give, so Draco just yanked, hard, and they tore, sheer brute force making the material puddle to the ground. Only then did Harry break their kiss and look at Draco.  
  
"Impressive," he said, another little smirk on his face that Draco wanted to wipe off those gorgeous lips, and he lunged at Harry and they both toppled to the ground, Harry flat on his back and now they were grappling with shirts, pulling Draco's button-up out of his neat trousers and shucking Harry's t-shirt entirely. Harry's tongue pushed into Draco's mouth, and he tasted incredible, like warmth and cherries and who even knew what, Draco couldn't get enough, couldn't move his hands to enough places to touch enough skin.  
  
On to buckles and flies next, their hands grappling, fighting with zippers and buttons and then finally, _finally_ , they had their hands where they'd wanted their hands to be.

 

Draco got there first and pressed the heel of his palm to the base of Harry's impossibly warm cock, and Harry gasped like he'd been stunned.  
  
Draco stopped, with some effort, and pulled back from their kiss, looking down at Harry laid out on the thin mat. "Okay?" he asked, hearing the rough crack to his own voice, and Harry threw back his head and laughed a low and gravelly laugh that Draco had never heard before.  
  
"Er, yes, that's okay. A lot better than okay."  
  
Draco took the opportunity to mouth Harry's throat, laid bare before him — that space between his collarbones, that perfect dip below the apple — and when Draco moved his hand again to wrap it around Harry's cock, that beautiful little hollow resonated with the sound of Harry's moan and Draco felt it on his own lips. It sent shocks through his whole body straight down to his own cock, which felt as though it was about to explode before Harry even got a proper grip on it.  
  
Still snogging madly, all tongues and teeth and lips and yes, Draco stroked once, twice, three times. Beneath him, Harry bucked his hips and made another gorgeous dirty sound and came all over Draco’s hand. He kept stroking Harry, kept his mouth on his, felt the pulses echo through his body until he was done.  
  
Harry pulled his face away from Draco's for a moment, his well-kissed lips open as he panted, and then Harry was flipping _him_ onto his back and roughly discarding his trousers. Draco tipped his hips up willingly and wrapped a hand around the back of Harry's neck, pulling him back down into another kiss.  
  
Harry stretched himself out on his side next to Draco, pressing close. His breath was ragged in Draco's ear and he took Draco's earlobe into his mouth, biting gently and almost tentatively.  
  
And then Harry's hand was on him, on top of his boxers, rubbing and moving roughly, just the way he must do on himself, and that thought sent Draco over the edge long before he wanted to go. But he was coming and coming, his shoulders grinding into the thin mat and his eyes squeezed tight as Harry's hand worked him.  
  
It lasted forever and not nearly long enough. Harry rolled onto his back and Draco opened his eyes, glanced over, and laughed.  
  
"That was... wow. Amazing. And quick," he said, self-deprecatingly.  
  
Harry laughed, a sexy and goofy laugh, another gorgeous laugh Draco hadn't heard before. "For me too. Amazing. And also quick. Although at least _I_ actually got my pants off," Harry said, teasing.  
  
"Oh, don't brag, Potter, I believe *I* actually got your pants off. Or, well, I got into them, anyway—"  
  
A small movement on the other side of the room caught Draco’s eye, and before he could think, the door swung open and someone stepped though. Hermione.  
  
Draco, only 30 seconds post-orgasm and Harry not far ahead of him, scrambled mindlessly for their tangled robes on the floor and pulled them over their laps, but there was no room for doubt about what they'd been doing.  
  
Draco stared wide-eyed at Hermione. He willed himself to smirk or make a smart comment, but nothing came — he just waited for her shocked expression, a gasp of horror, wide eyes, hands over her mouth. And then she smiled. Genuinely, like she was... happy?  
  
"Well, that's one way to work it out, isn't it?" she asked. "It's about bloody time, you two. Finally! I'll report back that you've calmed down nicely."  
  
She turned to leave and Draco and Harry stared at each other, but then Hermione turned around. Harry scrambled to pull his robes around him again.  
  
"Accio tissue," she called, and a small box flew into her hand. With a casual wave of her wand, she levitated it over to them and it landed in Draco's lap.  
  
"Without your wands, I suppose you'll have to clean up the Muggle way," she smirked. "See you in a bit."  
  
She stepped through the door and shut it silently, the padded walls of the Duelling Room muffling its click.


End file.
